In Brussels once I witnessed a daring attempt by a lawless foreigner to enter a tram from the wrong side. The gate was open: he was standing3 close beside it. A line of traffic was in his way: to have got round to the right side of that tram would have meant missing it. He entered when the conductor was not looking, and took his seat. The astonishment4 of the conductor on finding him there was immense. How did he get there? The conductor had been watching the proper entrance, and the man had not passed him. Later, the true explanation suggested itself to the conductor, but for a while he hesitated to accuse a fellow human being of such crime.
He appealed to the passenger himself. Was his presence to be accounted for by miracle or by sin? The passenger confessed. It was more in sorrow than in anger that the conductor requested him at once to leave. This tram was going to be kept respectable. The passenger proved refractory6, a halt was called, and the gendarmerie appealed to. After the manner of policemen, they sprang, as it were, from the ground, and formed up behind an imposing8 officer, whom I took to be the sergeant9. At first the sergeant could hardly believe the conductor’s statement. Even then, had the passenger asserted that he had entered by the proper entrance, his word would have been taken. Much easier to the foreign official mind would it have been to believe that the conductor had been stricken with temporary blindness, than that man born of woman would have deliberately10 done anything expressly forbidden by a printed notice.
Myself, in his case, I should have lied and got the trouble over. But he was a proud man, or had not much sense—one of the two, and so held fast to the truth. It was pointed11 out to him that he must descend immediately and wait for the next tram. Other gendarmes12 were arriving from every quarter: resistance in the circumstances seemed hopeless. He said he would get down. He made to descend this time by the proper gate, but that was not justice. He had mounted the wrong side, he must alight on the wrong side. Accordingly, he was put out amongst the traffic, after which the conductor preached a sermon from the centre of the tram on the danger of ascents13 and descents conducted from the wrong quarter.
There is a law throughout Germany—an excellent law it is: I would we had it in England—that nobody may scatter14 paper about the street. An English military friend told me that, one day in Dresden, unacquainted with this rule, he tore a long letter he had been reading into some fifty fragments and threw them behind him. A policeman stopped him and explained to him quite politely the law upon the subject. My military friend agreed that it was a very good law, thanked the man for his information, and said that for the future he would bear it in mind. That, as the policeman pointed out, would make things right enough for the future, but meanwhile it was necessary to deal with the past—with the fifty or so pieces of paper lying scattered15 about the road and pavement.
My military friend, with a pleasant laugh, confessed he did not see what was to be done. The policeman, more imaginative, saw a way out. It was that my military friend should set to work and pick up those fifty scraps16 of paper. He is an English General on the Retired17 List, and of imposing appearance: his manner on occasion is haughty18. He did not see himself on his hands and knees in the chief street of Dresden, in the middle of the afternoon, picking up paper.
The German policeman himself admitted that the situation was awkward. If the English General could not accept it there happened to be an alternative. It was that the English General should accompany the policeman through the streets, followed by the usual crowd, to the nearest prison, some three miles off. It being now four o’clock in the afternoon, they would probably find the judge departed. But the most comfortable thing possible in prison cells should be allotted19 to him, and the policeman had little doubt that the General, having paid his fine of forty marks, would find himself a free man again in time for lunch the following day. The general suggested hiring a boy to pick up the paper. The policeman referred to the wording of the law, and found that this would not be permitted.
“I thought the matter out,” my friend told me, “imagining all the possible alternatives, including that of knocking the fellow down and making a bolt, and came to the conclusion that his first suggestion would, on the whole, result in the least discomfort20. But I had no idea that picking up small scraps of thin paper off greasy21 stones was the business that I found it! It took me nearly ten minutes, and afforded amusement, I calculate, to over a thousand people. But it is a good law, mind you: all I wish is that I had known it beforehand.”
On one occasion I accompanied an American lady to a German Opera House. The taking-off of hats in the German Schausspielhaus is obligatory22, and again I would it were so in England. But the American lady is accustomed to disregard rules made by mere23 man. She explained to the doorkeeper that she was going to wear her hat. He, on his side, explained to her that she was not: they were both a bit short with one another. I took the opportunity to turn aside and buy a programme: the fewer people there are mixed up in an argument, I always think, the better.
My companion explained quite frankly24 to the doorkeeper that it did not matter what he said, she was not going to take any notice of him. He did not look a talkative man at any time, and, maybe, this announcement further discouraged him. In any case, he made no attempt to answer. All he did was to stand in the centre of the doorway25 with a far-away look in his eyes. The doorway was some four feet wide: he was about three feet six across, and weighed about twenty stone. As I explained, I was busy buying a programme, and when I returned my friend had her hat in her hand, and was digging pins into it: I think she was trying to make believe it was the heart of the doorkeeper. She did not want to listen to the opera, she wanted to talk all the time about that doorkeeper, but the people round us would not even let her do that.
She has spent three winters in Germany since then. Now when she feels like passing through a door that is standing wide open just in front of her, and which leads to just the place she wants to get to, and an official shakes his head at her, and explains that she must not, but must go up two flights of stairs and along a corridor and down another flight of stairs, and so get to her place that way, she apologises for her error and trots26 off looking ashamed of herself.
Continental27 Governments have trained their citizens to perfection. Obedience28 is the Continent’s first law. The story that is told of a Spanish king who was nearly drowned because the particular official whose duty it was to dive in after Spanish kings when they tumbled out of boats happened to be dead, and his successor had not yet been appointed, I can quite believe. On the Continental railways if you ride second class with a first-class ticket you render yourself liable to imprisonment29. What the penalty is for riding first with a second-class ticket I cannot say—probably death, though a friend of mine came very near on one occasion to finding out.
All would have gone well with him if he had not been so darned honest. He is one of those men who pride themselves on being honest. I believe he takes a positive pleasure in being honest. He had purchased a second-class ticket for a station up a mountain, but meeting, by chance on the platform, a lady acquaintance, had gone with her into a first-class apartment. On arriving at the journey’s end he explained to the collector what he had done, and, with his purse in his hand, demanded to know the difference. They took him into a room and locked the door. They wrote out his confession30 and read it over to him, and made him sign it, and then they sent for a policeman.
The policeman cross-examined him for about a quarter of an hour. They did not believe the story about the lady. Where was the lady? He did not know. They searched the neighbourhood for her, but could not find her. He suggested—what turned out to be the truth—that, tired of loitering about the station, she had gone up the mountain. An Anarchist31 outrage32 had occurred in the neighbouring town some months before. The policeman suggested searching for bombs. Fortunately, a Cook’s agent, returning with a party of tourists, arrived upon the scene, and took it upon himself to explain in delicate language that my friend was a bit of an ass5 and could not tell first class from second. It was the red cushions that had deceived my friend: he thought it was first class, as a matter of fact it was second class.
Everybody breathed again. The confession was torn up amid universal joy: and then the fool of a ticket collector wanted to know about the lady—who must have travelled in a second-class compartment33 with a first-class ticket. It looked as if a bad time were in store for her on her return to the station.
But the admirable representative of Cook was again equal to the occasion. He explained that my friend was also a bit of a liar34. When he said he had travelled with this lady he was merely boasting. He would like to have travelled with her, that was all he meant, only his German was shaky. Joy once more entered upon the scene. My friend’s character appeared to be re-established. He was not the abandoned wretch35 for whom they had taken him—only, apparently36, a wandering idiot. Such an one the German official could respect. At the expense of such an one the German official even consented to drink beer.
Not only the foreign man, woman and child, but the foreign dog is born good. In England, if you happen to be the possessor of a dog, much of your time is taken up dragging him out of fights, quarrelling with the possessor of the other dog as to which began it, explaining to irate37 elderly ladies that he did not kill the cat, that the cat must have died of heart disease while running across the road, assuring disbelieving game-keepers that he is not your dog, that you have not the faintest notion whose dog he is. With the foreign dog, life is a peaceful proceeding38. When the foreign dog sees a row, tears spring to his eyes: he hastens on and tries to find a policeman. When the foreign dog sees a cat in a hurry, he stands aside to allow her to pass. They dress the foreign dog—some of them—in a little coat, with a pocket for his handkerchief, and put shoes on his feet. They have not given him a hat—not yet. When they do, he will contrive39 by some means or another to raise it politely when he meets a cat he thinks he knows.
One morning, in a Continental city, I came across a disturbance40—it might be more correct to say the disturbance came across me: it swept down upon me, enveloped41 me before I knew that I was in it. A fox-terrier it was, belonging to a very young lady—it was when the disturbance was to a certain extent over that we discovered he belonged to this young lady. She arrived towards the end of the disturbance, very much out of breath: she had been running for a mile, poor girl, and shouting most of the way. When she looked round and saw all the things that had happened, and had had other things that she had missed explained to her, she burst into tears. An English owner of that fox-terrier would have given one look round and then have jumped upon the nearest tram going anywhere. But, as I have said, the foreigner is born good. I left her giving her name and address to seven different people.
But it was about the dog I wished to speak more particularly. He had commenced innocently enough, trying to catch a sparrow. Nothing delights a sparrow more than being chased by a dog. A dozen times he thought he had the sparrow. Then another dog had got in his way. I don’t know what they call this breed of dog, but abroad it is popular: it has no tail and looks like a pig—when things are going well with it. This particular specimen42, when I saw him, looked more like part of a doormat. The fox-terrier had seized it by the scruff of the neck and had rolled it over into the gutter43 just in front of a motor cycle. Its owner, a large lady, had darted44 out to save it, and had collided with the motor cyclist. The large lady had been thrown some half a dozen yards against an Italian boy carrying a tray load of plaster images.
I have seen a good deal of trouble in my life, but never one yet that did not have an Italian image-vendor somehow or other mixed up in it. Where these boys hide in times of peace is a mystery. The chance of being upset brings them out as sunshine brings out flies. The motor cycle had dashed into a little milk-cart and had spread it out neatly45 in the middle of the tram lines. The tram traffic looked like being stopped for a quarter of an hour; but the idea of every approaching tram driver appeared to be that if he rang his bell with sufficient vigor46 this seeming obstruction47 would fade away and disappear.
In an English town all this would not have attracted much attention. Somebody would have explained that a dog was the original cause, and the whole series of events would have appeared ordinary and natural. Upon these foreigners the fear descended48 that the Almighty49, for some reason, was angry with them. A policeman ran to catch the dog.
The delighted dog rushed backwards50, barking furiously, and tried to throw up paving stones with its hind7 legs. That frightened a nursemaid who was wheeling a perambulator, and then it was that I entered into the proceedings51. Seated on the edge of the pavement, with a perambulator on one side of me and a howling baby on the other, I told that dog what I thought of him.
Forgetful that I was in a foreign land—that he might not understand me—I told it him in English, I told it him at length, I told it very loud and clear. He stood a yard in front of me, listening to me with an expression of ecstatic joy I have never before or since seen equalled on any face, human or canine52. He drank it in as though it had been music from Paradise.
“Where have I heard that song before?” he seemed to be saying to himself, “the old familiar language they used to talk to me when I was young?”
He approached nearer to me; there were almost tears in his eyes when I had finished.
“Say it again!” he seemed to be asking of me. “Oh! say it all over again, the dear old English oaths and curses that in this God-forsaken land I never hoped to hear again.”
I learnt from the young lady that he was an English-born fox-terrier. That explained everything. The foreign dog does not do this sort of thing. The foreigner is born good: that is why we hate him.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
descend
|
|
| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
egress
|
|
| n.出去；出口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
astonishment
|
|
| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
ass
|
|
| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
refractory
|
|
| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
hind
|
|
| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
imposing
|
|
| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
sergeant
|
|
| n.警官，中士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
deliberately
|
|
| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
gendarmes
|
|
| n.宪兵，警官( gendarme的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
ascents
|
|
| n.上升( ascent的名词复数 )；（身份、地位等的）提高；上坡路；攀登 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
scatter
|
|
| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
scattered
|
|
| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
scraps
|
|
| 油渣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
retired
|
|
| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
haughty
|
|
| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
allotted
|
|
| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
discomfort
|
|
| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
greasy
|
|
| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
obligatory
|
|
| adj.强制性的，义务的，必须的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
mere
|
|
| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
trots
|
|
| 小跑，急走( trot的名词复数 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
continental
|
|
| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
obedience
|
|
| n.服从，顺从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
imprisonment
|
|
| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
confession
|
|
| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
anarchist
|
|
| n.无政府主义者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
outrage
|
|
| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
compartment
|
|
| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
liar
|
|
| n.说谎的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
wretch
|
|
| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
irate
|
|
| adj.发怒的，生气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
contrive
|
|
| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
disturbance
|
|
| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
enveloped
|
|
| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
specimen
|
|
| n.样本，标本 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
gutter
|
|
| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
darted
|
|
| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
neatly
|
|
| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
vigor
|
|
| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
obstruction
|
|
| n.阻塞，堵塞；障碍物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
descended
|
|
| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
almighty
|
|
| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
backwards
|
|
| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
canine
|
|
| adj.犬的，犬科的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |